Thanksgiving
by Aesculap
Summary: Thanksgiving '09 at Bobby's not only involved a slightly frozen Angel but 20 flasks of cranberry sauce, 10 bottles of tequila, dental silk, a pan and lots of butter also - not in that particular order. Slightly crackish slash, spoiler for 5.10


AN: I just assume the events in 5.10 took place a few days before Thanksgiving.

For vankoss, the prompt was: _thanskiving involved 20 cans of cranberrie sauce, 10 bottles of tequila (mostly cas) deantal silk, a pan and lots of butter..._

I morphed the cans into bottles otherwhise I used everything as prompted :)_  
_

* * *

Bobby and Sam had fled the kitchen just moments ago. The younger Winchester didn't really know what to do now. Stay here and hope for the best? Retreat to his room? Go to bed? Gather all his courage and enter the kitchen?! Then he could hear things clattering, a sound like a chair being pushed across the small room, something rattling down. But no sound was loud enough to cover the moans and groans. Sam sighed heavily. The evening had started really promising...

~*~

Although it was fairly warm for this time of the year Castiel felt cold. He hugged himself tighter and tried to suppress another shiver. Lately his vessel... _body _acted more and more human, as if there wasn't an Angel inside controlling each and every of its needs and functions. Right now it was very cold despite each of Castiel's efforts. Perhaps this was somehow connected with him no longer being able to burn out demons with the mere touch of his hands? Possibly an other manifestation of him being cut off from Heaven's powers? Or a sign of his imminent fall?

He had attemted to warm up in some diner but without ordering something they had soon told him to leave. The bus stop he had now tried to find shelter in wasn't warm but at least the strong wind couldn't try to rip the coat off his body any longer.

As the Angel's phone rung he needed way too long finding it in his pockets and pressing the right button with numb fingers. Dean. Perhaps they needed help with something? Anything as long as it was warmer.

~*~

The Angel appeared in Bobby's kitchen bringing a gust of cold air with him. Dean noticed with a frown the pale tinge and blue lips. A violent shiver run through the lithe form next to him making at least half of Dean's internal alarm bells ring.

"Are you cold, Cas?"

"I am afraid the core temperature of my vessel is below normal operating levels. But I am sure I will warm up soon."

"Fuck, Cas, you're freezing cold!" The hunter exclaimed after touching one of the Angel's hands hesitantly.

Castiel needed a tea. With lots of rum. Although Dean knew alcohol didn't really warm up a body it at least made one _feel_ warmer again. And here, inside Bobby's cozy home he wasn't afraid the Angel could die of booze induced hypothermia – could an Angel actually die? Of hypothermia? Dean had no idea but Castiel shuddering with cold wasn't particularly reassuring.

~*~

The cup Dean gave him was hot – steam still rising from the dark red liquid – and Castiel had to concentrate not to pull back his hands and let the tea fall on the floor. Carefully he took a tiny sip, felt how the liquid burned down his throat and suddenly erupted in shuddering coughs. This wasn't the first time he had consumed alcohol – the beers he had tried in the time Sam had been absent, the shots Ellen had taught him to have – and up until now he had never felt anything like that. Warmth spread through his belly, made his limps a bit heavier than they had been just moments before and... and he decided he liked that feeling.

Dean told Castiel that it was Thanksgiving – of course the Angel had heard about this particular holiday, knew the humans celebrated that harvest festival to give thanks to God for the heavy crop and pray for a similar plentiful harvest next year. He felt honored by the hunter asking him to spent the evening with them.

Bobby had prepared a huge turkey that was already inside his oven as Dean pointed out full of childlike glee. Castiel had to admit the smell filling the small kitchen was... magnificent. He took another sip of his ever-burning tea and watched next to Dean how the delicious meal was cooking. The Angel noticed a low rumble when he was just about to count the huge potatoes that were besieging the turkey.

The sudden laughter Dean erupted in made Castiel nearly jump.

"Dean?" The Angel's eyes bore into the hunter's trying to understand what was the cause for his amusement.

"Dude, was that just your stomach?!"

Castiel placed his hand on his belly frowning. Dean was right, the source of the rumbling sound was somewhere inside of him. Was he experiencing _hunger _for the first time? Eating really was something the Angel did not want to do. Human digestion with all its waste matters and means of disposal made him feel uneasy...

"Luckily Bobby 's cooked enough for all of us. Even if you turn out to have an appetite like me."

"Speaking of, where are your brother and he?"

"In town. They'll be back anytime soon. Just catchin' a few beers 'n' stuff."

~*~

It turned out Castiel liked turkey - _really _liked it. And potatoes. And pumpkin. And everything else Bobby had made. Dean and the Angel ended up eating half of the enormous bird the old hunter had planned would last for _at least _another day. It looked like there wouldn't be any turkey sandwiches or soup for next lunch left. Of course there was pie as dessert also. Apple and cherry. Castiel tried both but decided he liked apple more whereas Dean - as always - just plainly couldn't. Sweet apple combined with the strong flavor of cinnamon under a crusty layer of rich brown crumbs, rounded up with a blob of cream. Or the taste of ripe but still a bit sour cherries with the slightest hint of cinnamon, caramelized sugar on top, served with a generous amount of vanilla ice cream and chocolate sprinkles.

Needless to say Dean couldn't move for about an hour without having to fear he would burst at the seams after he had stuffed himself. As Castiel too was just sitting next to him on the couch not moving after he had opened the topmost button of his pants the hunter was sure the Angel too had overeaten quite a bit. They both wordlessly decided not to talk about food for the remaining evening. Finally Bobby took mercy at their pitiable sight and fetched them all a bottle of cordial. In Dean's opinion that was the start of a really wonderful evening.

The liquor helped so that half an hour later both hunter and Angel were not only feeling better again, Castiel was starting to relax, too. The Angel was slumped next to Dean in a way he hadn't seen him before, the expression on his face calm and unbent, hands resting on his still too full stomach, just listening to the stories Bobby and Sam exchanged with shining eyes.

While the old hunter made sure their shot glasses were always filled time went by. Needless to say the Angel's alcohol tolerance was still clearly above that of anyone else in the room nevertheless he slowly was showing the effects of being tipsy. His movements were more agitated and clumsy than usually and he was leaning slightly against Dean's side without so much as noticing. The hunter in return did. And he decided he liked the jolts of heat every movement of the body next to him were sending through his own.

~*~

Sometime around midnight Bobby told them of the games he used to play with his parents on Thanksgiving when he was still a little boy - and how they had changed over the years. Sam had the great idea to try one of them now.

"We neeja rope," the younger Winchester stated, his speech already heavily slurred by too many shots. He struggled to his feet with a grunt and started to search the living room and after that the kitchen for some kind of cord. Swayingly he returned, triumphant expression on his face and a reel of dental silk in his hand.

"Now," Bobby declared, "the dangly bits. Ma parents used sausages. Later we took lil bottl's o' shorts or fruit schnaps. Don't have any 'round though."

"I'll..." Castiel announced excited before he vanished in a familiar rustle of feathers. Dean wasn't sure if he imagines things because of all the booze already flowing through his veins but he could have sworn he felt soft feathers brushing over his face as the warm body next to him disappeared.

"Hope featherbrain can drink 'n' fly without accident..." Bobby mumbled as he stared at the now vacant space with a frown. Having an Angel around still was something was wasn't entirely used to.

Dean burped loudly in agreement.

About four and a half minutes later - no, Dean was _not _counting the seconds - the Angel reappeared next to the older Winchester. His aim seemed to be a bit off because Castiel manifested around one and a half feet above the couch, landing with a startled 'Oof' across Dean's lap. With a sheepish smile he crawled off the hunter and presented his loot - a bag full of bottles. None of them was as small as Bobby had hoped.

The ended up tying 20 slim flasks of cranberrie sauce - not even the Angel could explain why he had thought at that time retrieving them was a good idea - 10 bottles of tequila, the last remaining six pack and a few other beverages together.

The cord hung heavily across Bobby's living room and Dean suspected it was only thanks to Castiel's mojo that the dental silk didn't tear when all contestants finally took their marks. As Bobby had no way reaching the goodies while in his wheelchair he didn't participate but volunteered to make the rope swing now and then to spice up the game.

Dean and Sam each came up with one flask of sauce, a beer and while the taller Winchester continued to get smacked in the head by the tequila Dean managed to retrieve on of these bottles, too. The remaining had been already claimed by the Angel.

~*~

One swig of beer with cranberry sauce sent Sam running for the toilet whereas tequila with cranberry was something the Angel obviously liked. He drank all of his nine bottles in under half an hour. Although both Dean and Bobby exchanged worried glances Castiel didn't drop dead because of alcohol poisoning. He just became plastered, utterly shitfaced and wasted.

After relieving himself Dean sat down on his old spot on the couch next to the drunken Angel. The movement of the upholstery made Castiel lose his balance so he ended up face first in the hunter's lap. The hot breath across his crotch sent another shiver through Dean's veins made it hard to suppress the moan that threatened to escape his lips. Judging by how slowly the Angel rose again, placed his hands deliberately on the hunter's thighs for leverage and made sure to... This time Dean could no longer hold back the groan as invisible feathers touched him _right there_.

The hunter pulled the boozed-up Angel to his feat and dragged him to the first room that came into his mind where they had at least some kind of privacy - the kitchen. He needed to rip those clothes off his Angel right the fuck now but not in front of his brother or Bobby.

That's how Dean and Cas ended up having noisy and much to Sam's dismay vociferously sex on the kitchen counter.

~*~

The next day brought not only a kitchen that looked like a bomb had gone off with a pan on top of the kitchen lap and about ten empty packages of butter on the wooden floor but also a very hung over Dean and a pretty sick Angel.

* * *

AN2: Actually this had been planned to be ready for New Year's Eve, but then my daughter decided to eat toxic berries... Sorry for the delay, still a happy new year to all of you!


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